Soft Sell
by Mahala
Summary: A short sequel for Hard Call in which Mac gets a visit from Stella. Not sure which genre this falls in - I'll leave you to make up your mind. Complete
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Solomon Gray leaned on his mop and watched the crowd in front of him. Of all the mundane jobs he had to do, this was his favourite. It was getting late and the last flights had already come in. The wave from the security guard that followed the last passenger through the automatic sliding doors was Solomon's cue to push the extra wide mop up and down the arrival's hall scooping up all the debris that passengers saw fit to discard and leave to the nameless people who cleared up after them. It wasn't the cleaning he enjoyed – it was the people-watching, especially in the arrivals hall.

As he waited for his cue he surveyed the 'waiters' : a large family group loudly waiting for a loved one called Jessie, their hand-made sign decorated with streamers and balloons; a young man holding a bunch of flowers nervously glancing at his watch every thirty seconds; three bored-looking drivers with their boards patiently waiting for their fares; a hassled young woman with a wriggling infant; and the man in the long black coat. Solomon shifted his weight slightly to relieve his aching joints as he watched. He was intrigued by the man in the coat. He stood slightly apart from the others. He didn't move. He didn't check his watch. He just stood totally at ease like an island in the middle of a bay, aware of the activity all around him but not concerned by it. Military, thought Solomon to himself, no ... maybe ex-military!

The doors swished open and Jessie made her appearance to the joy of the excitable family whose screams of delight could be heard at the other end of the concourse. A tired-looking business-man followed her out dragging a black bag and computer case. The three drivers raised their boards hoping that he was their fare and they could be on their way home. One of them smiled a greeting as they made eye-contact and the other two lowered their boards in resignation. All the while Solomon watched the man in the black coat. His eyes followed the arrivals but still he didn't move. As the doors swished open once more revealing a young man with a large suitcase, the woman with the baby raised a hand and lifted the infant to see it's father. She pecked her husband on the cheek and turned to go without further ado desperate to get away from the airport and put the restless baby to bed. Another business-man arrived and made another driver sigh with relief. The impatient young man got his reward as his girlfriend made her way through the doors and threw herself into his arms with a squeal. Solomon frowned at their enthusiastic kissing, the flowers temporarily forgotten in their eagerness. "Young people these days!" he muttered shaking his head.

As other passengers filtered through the doors they made their way round the man in the dark coat as though it was his job to sort them, some to the left to find cabs and shuttles, others to the right to the car park. At last he moved. He raised his right hand, a white bandage clearly visible. Solomon straightened up to see who the man was waiting for. As he did so he realised that the right side of the man's face had an angry-looking red scar bisecting one eyebrow and the yellowing remains of a large bruise on the edge of his chin. Solomon noted his shy smile and turned to see a stunning looking woman approach, her steps carefully measured, her head of golden-brown curls swaying gently as she moved. As she drew near she stood her suitcase upright freeing her hands. The man pulled her in close and she eased her arms around his waist beneath the coat and buried her face in his neck. They did not kiss nor did they move. The embrace was both intimate and passionate and, to Solomon, it seemed to last forever, though in reality it could not have been more than a few seconds. For a moment Solomon felt like a voyeur intruding on their private moment but he was unable to look away such was the intensity of their embrace. Passengers continued to flow around them as the woman pulled away and raised her hand to the man's face. He smiled at her reassuringly as though nothing was wrong but Solomon knew she wasn't fooled.

A movement from the doorway told Solomon that that was his cue and he shuffled forward as the man and woman left. He stared after them for a moment in sadness remembering when he had had someone to love before she was taken from him, and for a moment he was jealous of the man in the long black coat.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Bloody cats!" Don Flack sneezed again. Jo Danville arched an eyebrow and smiled sympathetically at Don. "Why do I always get the call when a cat's involved? I swear they do it on purpose." he grumbled. Jo shook her head and tried not to laugh as she scooped some cat hair from the body lying in front of her. It was obvious what it was given Don's sneezing but it had to be tested anyway. Jo sighed as she pushed the hair into a bag with tweezers and continued to examine the man in front of her.

"So what do you reckon?" asked Don. "Robbery gone bad?"

"Certainly looks that way." answered Jo. "The perp breaks in via the back door." She glanced over at Adam who was dusting the broken glass on the back door for prints. She watched him check the clarity of the print he had just lifted and place it on the mobile fingerprint scanner before placing the device on the kitchen table hoping for a result.

Adam bent to examine the floor. "J.D. I think there are boot prints. I'm going to get the electro-static print lifter."

Jo raised her hand in acknowledgement before turning back to Don. "They were searching the bureau when our vic must have entered the apartment and challenged him ... or her! They struggle... " Jo stood trying to visualise the two combatants. "... they knock over the lamp, scattering the books, scaring the cat ..." Don looked at Jo in disbelief who merely grinned. "...okay I just added that in for a little extra drama! ... The perp pushes the vic backwards and he falls, banging his head on that coffee table. " Jo pointed to the blood stain on the corner of a low, glass-topped table.

"You think that our perp didn't mean to kill him?" questioned Don.

"Possibly not! There's no evidence that it was premeditated and no evidence that it wasn't. Let's get the vic back to Sid and see what he'd got to say." Jo turned to see Adam enter the room just as the mobile fingerprint scanner bleeped with a result.

Adam grabbed the device from the table and looked at the screen. "Huh!" he frowned and approached Jo and Don. "Fingerprints from the back door indicate a Philip Reynolds. Doesn't the apartment..."

"...belong to Patricia Reynolds? Yeah it does!" Don finished.

Jo looked confused. "What's the relation?"

"Dunno!" replied Adam. "says here that Philip has a D.U.I. Nothing about robbery or B&E!"

"Let me see." demanded Jo comparing the photograph on the hand-held device to the body lying on the floor. "Well it's definitely not Philip Reynolds and it certainly isn't Patricia..." She looked at the gloved hands and the black clothing. "Could this be the burglar?"

"Let's see if we can get a print." Jo handed the device back to Adam and bent to down to remove one of the vic's gloves. She carefully inked a thumb and, taking a transparent film from her kit, transferred the print to the film, smoothing the protective seal down as she checked the clarity, just as Adam had done. Jo handed Adam the print and he placed it on the scanner, and glanced around for Don.

While she was checking the prints, Don had left and come back with a young woman. "Alicia, this is Detective Jo Danville and Adam Ross." They both acknowledged the young woman with a smile. Don encouraged her to move closer. "Alicia lives next door and noticed that the back door was open and alerted the police. Alicia, I know this isn't easy but do you recognize this man?" Don's voice was gentle as he coaxed the young woman to move closer and identify the body.

Alicia swallowed and glanced at the man lying at her feet. "No, I ... wait ..." She leaned a little closer. Her face screwed up as she fought to remember where she had seen him before. "Yes. It's him. I mean ... he came round a week or so ago saying he was from the fire prevention service. He wanted to check the electrical installations. I didn't let him in. My husband says I should never let anyone in when I'm on my own ... Oh! ... Do you think Patricia let him in? ... Oh dear. I do hope she's all right. I mean she's almost 80 and ... not altogether with it, if you know what I mean..." She looked at Don with a worried expression.

"Don't worry Alicia. We'll find her. Let me accompany you home ..." Don escorted her from the room. Jo watched them leave and jumped slightly as Adam's print scanner bleeped.

Adam scowled as he read the summary. "Orville White. Conman. Petty thief. Did 4 years for breaking and entering." Adam showed Jo the picture. "Definitely him!"

Jo looked at Adam. "So ..." Jo's head bounced slightly from side to side as she tried to turn her scenario around in her head. She sensed Don approach behind her. " Orville White cases the place posing as a fire prevention officer, comes back to rob Mrs Reynolds. Philip Reynolds ..."

"...her nephew!" added Don. "Just asked Alicia. He visits every Saturday evening to ensure his aunt is okay."

Jo nodded as she took in the new information. "Philip Reynolds ... her nephew comes home, catches him in the apartment trying to rob his aunt. They struggle..."

"... they knock over the lamp, scattering the books, scaring the cat ..." Don grinned at Jo as he reiterated her earlier words "...and Philip pushes Orville backwards so he falls banging his head on that coffee table. "

Adam looked confused as Jo smirked at Don over their private joke. "So where is Mrs Reynolds and her nephew?"

"Good question!" Jo looked around the empty apartment as though it would provide some answers. She shook her head and signalled for the ME's assistants to take the body. As she did so, she heard Don's phone ring.

Don glanced at the screen surprised and lifted his phone to his ear. "Stella! Hey!." His smile turned to a frown. "You're what? ... You're where? ... He's WHAT? ... Oh you have got to be kidding me ...!"


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Bloody cats!" Mac Taylor ducked under the opening in the wire fence snagging his new top coat in the process. "Stella. Wait up!" He jogged across the waste ground towards the partially demolished building just in time to see his companion scramble over a pile of rubble and disappear from view.

Just when the evening had been going so well! They'd had a relaxing afternoon strolling round the farmer's market followed by drinks at a quiet bar that was once their favoured stamping ground. They'd then gone onto Angelo's, Stella's favourite Italian restaurant. As they were walking back to his apartment they heard a loud screech and had both almost shot out of their skins. When they saw that it was a only a cat, Stella had laughed and blamed her skittishness on too much Chianti. When she pushed him, Mac's excuse was that two weeks previously he had been on his way to play at Cozy's when he'd come across a young mother being attacked by her ex-husband which had led him into a game of cat and mouse with a killer in order to rescue the woman's son. Stella had bent down to stroke the furry feline that was winding itself around her legs. She had gasped when her hand came away covered in blood.

As they realised that the cat itself wasn't injured but the blood must have come from somewhere else, the animal had suddenly taken off down a side street. And Stella had taken off in hot pursuit. Mac had no choice but to follow.

Mac scrambled over pile of broken bricks and plaster, blinking his eyes to adjust to the poor lighting as they distanced themselves from the road. "Stella?" he called.

"Here!"

Mac turned to his left and could make out a doorway in the remnants of the building. He could just distinguish a faint blue glow. Stella was using her cell phone as a torch. He dug awkwardly in his pocket with his left hand to grab his phone when a man came up behind him.

"Please, my aunt! You have to help me!" He sounded desperate as he pawed at Mac's coat. "She's 80 and she's only wearing her nightdress and housecoat. She went after that bloody cat." he finished as though that explained everything.

"Wait here." ordered Mac. "Don't move! ... Stella?" Mac rushed through the doorway and held his phone high to see around the room. As his eyes adjusted to the light he could see that the back of the room had already been demolished and some of the rubble already cleared leaving a gaping hole where underground store rooms must have once been filled with goods for the store and apartments above.

Stella was bent down by an old woman, lying near the edge of the hole. "Oh I have to get to Tabitha ... she having kittens you know." The old woman pointed down across the hole to a pile of rubble and an old crate that was wedged there. As Stella shone her phone in the direction indicated by the old woman, two cat's eyes were reflected in the light although the creature itself was invisible in the dark.

"Mac! She's injured. Help me!" Mac carefully made his way across the debris that littered the floor and crouched down by the old woman. He could see a large gash on her leg that was bleeding profusely. Between them he and Stella managed to get her up. Mac winced as he felt the wound across his ribs stretch but said nothing. They managed to get her to the door when a head poked round.

"Aunt Patricia! Thank goodness! Are you all right?" The young man stretched his arms out and helped his aunt through the doorway relieving Mac of his burden.

"Oh! Philip? Is that you? Have you seen Tabitha? She's having kittens you know!" the old lady looked momentarily confused.

"Come on Aunt Patricia. This way. I'm sure Tabitha will be just fine." Philip sounded frustrated as though he'd uttered this phrase a thousand times.

"Oh but I must find her." Suddenly the old woman turned back to Mac. "You will find her won't you? She's having kittens you know." she asked as Stella helped her through the doorway.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Don, perched on the wide leather foot stool, glanced at his friends and scribbled a few words in his notebook. "Okay I think that's about it. I'll add this to my report." He looked from Mac to Stella and back again. He sneezed. "Sorry!"

"How is Mrs Reynolds doing?" asked Stella as she leaned on the back of Mac's leather chair, her hand casually laid just close enough to the back of Mac's head that he could feel her fingers lightly brushing against his hair.

"The cut on her leg needed quite a few stitches so they're keeping her in for a few days. The doctor confirmed Alzheimers. He's going to recommend a course of treatment." Don stared at Stella and Mac strangely. "He's trying to persuade her into a home but she won't go." Don sighed.

"What about the nephew?" asked Mac.

"Well, he seemed genuinely surprised when we told him that Orville White was dead. He said he was so worried about his aunt that, as he thought he had just knocked him out when he pushed him over, he let him be and ran to check the house. When he discovered she was nowhere to be found he didn't think to check to see if Orville was okay. He just rushed off to find his aunt. It seems he saw Stella crossing the demolition site and … er … thought she was his aunt ..." Don looked embarrassed as he tried to stifle a laugh.

Stella was horrified. "He thought I was an 80 year old lady …?" she spluttered. At Mac's snigger, she clipped him lightly with the back of her hand. "It's not funny!"

"He wasn't wearing his glasses and your coat was the same colour as hers." added Don in an effort to sooth Stella's outrage. Mac sniggered again which earned him another clip.

"Ow!" he moaned."I didn't do anything!"

"Speaking of not doing anything … exactly how did you break open your stitches and strain your shoulder?" Don nodded at Mac's freshly bandaged hand and new sling. It was Stella's turn to snigger. Mac merely looked put out but said nothing.

"That was saving a mother and her children!" Stella smiled conspiratorially at Don.

"What?" Don stared at Mac who rolled his eyes and turned to give Stella a famous Taylor glare. However before he could say anything the door-bell rang.

"I'll get it." Stella quickly removed herself from the back of the chair and ran down the steps. Don and Mac cricked their necks in an effort to see. Stella returned with a small, rotund man with a red jovial face.

"Mr Taylor? Jasper Jones – we spoke last night. I've come for the little family." he gushed tapping his hands together excitedly. Stella indicated that she'd get it and disappeared into the kitchen. Don stared at Mac who looked rather embarassed as Mr Jones continued. "Don't worry. We'll take good care of them for you and make sure they go to good homes." By this point, Don was positively confused until Stella returned with a cardboard box. "Oh what little darlings! I'll take good care of you and your little ones,don't you worry. I'll make sure Tabitha gets back to her owner. There, there ..." Mr Jones continued to talk to his charges as Stella ushered him out of the door.

Don's face split into a wide grin as he stared at Mac and then at Stella. "You got him to rescue the cat?"

Stella grinned at Don and winked at Mac. "Oh it was nothing. Mac's a soft sell!" Mac grimaced and buried his head in his hand.

Don chuckled all the way to the door at Mac's discomfort as he grabbed his phone from his pocket. The door hadn't even closed before Mac and Stella could hear "Messer? You're not going to believe this ..." he had to break off as he sneezed again. "Bloody cats!"

Mac sighed heavily as Stella returned to his side. "I'm not going to live this down am I?" he said.

"Probably not!" she laughed "But don't worry. I'll make it up to you."

Mac looked slightly mollified. "Oh yeah! How?" he said with a sly smile and a twinkle in his eyes.

"Mac Taylor!" 


	5. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Solomon Gray hurried as fast as his old legs would carry him. He was early for work but he wanted to get a coffee at the snack bar in front of the departures hall. He settled himself onto the end stool and watched the crowds making their way to the gate. Ingrid came over and placed a coffee in front of him.

"Here you go Solomon. Have you missed me?" she asked. Solomon laughed, a deep throaty laugh and flashed her a big grin. "Or have you just come for yer spying?" Ingrid giggled.

"People-watching Ingrid! People-watching!" Solomon surveyed the queue to see if anything interesting was going on. There were the usual tired business-men leaving on yet another trip, excited young pack-backers off on an adventure, family members waving tearful goodbyes to loved ones.

Then a couple caught his eye. As they strolled up to security, the woman stood her overnight suitcase upright thus freeing her hands. She slid them round the man's waist under his coat and buried her face in his neck. They did not kiss nor did they move. They just stood for a few moments locked in a private world of their own and then the woman pulled slowly away, grabbed her case and with a last look made her way through the sliding doors. The man in the long black coat stood immobile for a few seconds watching as she disappeared from view, a lone island in a sea of moving passengers.

Solomon drained his coffee and dug in his pocket for his wallet and placed a couple of dollars on the counter before pulling something else from the wallet. He looked back at the man in the dark coat and watched him make an abrupt about-turn. As he did so the coat flew open and a gold badge was clearly visible on his belt. Solomon nodded, definitely ex-military.

"Do you know him?" asked Ingrid seeing Solomon intently watch the man as he walked slowly away.

For a moment Solomon looked down at the faded photograph of a young couple in his gnarled hand. "No." he said quietly and for a moment he felt sorrow for the man in the black coat.


End file.
